The Gift of Christmas Present (13 page)

“Kids always have problems with their parents,” her grandmother said. “It's just the way of life.”

“But these past couple of years I've really learned to appreciate all my parents have done for me. Unfortunately, it was too late to show it to my mother. But I try to let my dad know.”

“I'm sure he knows, Christine. You know, I'd like to write
him a letter. To thank him for his kindness to my—my girls.”

“Oh, he would love that, Grandmother. And you'll have to meet him when he comes back from Brazil. He's the sweetest person ever.”

“Do you have any photos of your family?”

“I do. I even made up a little album last summer. I wish I had a photo of Lenore, but my dad said she was camera shy.”

Esther nodded. “That's true, she was. A beautiful girl, but she hated getting her picture taken. So I don't have many photos of her after she became a teenager. I do have quite a few of her as a baby and young child. You can see them when we get back home.”

They had reached the edge of town. “Shall I drive to the cemetery now? Or do you think we should stop and get something to eat? It's past lunchtime.”

Esther waved her hand. “I'm perfectly fine. Why don't we just keep going. Those thick, gray clouds look like they might have snow in them.”

“Oh, I hope so,” Christine said. “I'd love to have a white Christmas this year.”

Esther just shook her head.

When they reached the cemetery, Christine could feel a silence settling into the car, like a thick blanket of sadness draped around them. “Lenore's grave isn't too far from the road,” she said, hoping to alleviate the heaviness. “It's near my mother's. I think you can make it there fairly easily with your crutches.”

She parked the car as close as she could to the gravesite, then went around to help her grandmother out of the car.
The wind was biting cold, and Christine thought she saw a few snowflakes fluttering through the air.

“It's right next to this path,” she said, pointing down the graveled walk. “But be careful with those crutches, this ground isn't terribly even.” She stayed near the old woman, keeping her hands ready to support her if she stumbled. But soon they were there, and, thankfully, there was a marble bench directly across from Lenore's grave. It must've been placed there by the people who maintained a family plot just adjacent to hers, but the two of them sat down on it just the same.

Esther pulled her handkerchief from her pocket and dabbed at her eyes as she stared speechlessly at the small granite marker.

L
ENORE
L
OUISE
B
LACKSTONE
1965–1984
S
AFE IN HER
F
ATHER
'
S ARMS
J
OHN
3:16

Christine sat in silence for several minutes, then finally said, “My dad told me Lenore had a really good heart, that she was kind and good and gentle. And I don't know if it'll make any difference to you. I mean, I don't know where you stand about these things, but my dad said Lenore gave her heart to God not long before she died. That's always been reassuring to me.”

Esther turned away, holding her handkerchief over her face as she sobbed quietly. Christine laid a hand on her shoulder. “ I know it's hard, Grandmother, but I really believe she's happy now.”

Esther shook her head. “No, this is—all—all my fault. My daughter is dead and gone because I was so—so wrong. So stubborn and wrong.” Suddenly she stood, clumsily gathering her crutches beneath her as she began moving closer to the grave. “Oh, Lenore,” she sobbed. “I was so wrong—” And then, like a house of cards, she crumbled and fell on the dry brown grass.

“Grandmother!” Christine shrieked as she fell on her knees next to the old woman. “Are you okay?”

But her grandmother's eyes were closed, and though she was breathing, it was coming out in quick little pants. Christine gently shook her, then looked around to see if anyone was nearby. Oh, how she wished she had a cell phone just then.

“What's the problem?” a male voice called.

Christine whipped around to see a man in overalls and a sweatshirt jogging toward them. “It's my grandmother,” she said. “She's collapsed. Please, can you call an ambulance?”

The man pulled some sort of radio from his pocket, telling someone on the other end to call for an ambulance. Then he knelt beside Esther and leaned over to see if she was breathing.

“She's still breathing,” Christine said.

“Is it her heart?” he asked. “Does she need CPR?”

Christine had already checked her pulse. “She has a heartbeat, but it's not very strong. I'm not sure what to do.”

“The ambulance should be here soon.” The man whipped off his sweatshirt and used it to cradle Esther's head. “The hospital's only about a mile away.”

“That's right,” Christine remembered. Then she removed
her own parka and laid it over her grandmother to help preserve her body heat. In the same moment, as if to mock her, the snowflakes began to fall faster.

“Oh, hurry,” she cried. “Please, please, hurry.” Then she began to pray.
Dear God, please take care of Grandmother. Please help her to be all right. And please send the ambulance quickly
.

Just then she heard the siren coming closer. Within minutes the whole crew was there, checking her grandmother's vital signs, putting an oxygen mask on her, and loading her onto the gurney.

“I'll follow you,” Christine said as she turned to run back to the car.

As she drove toward the hospital, she continued to pray. But as she parked the car and dashed toward the ER entrance, it hit her. This was where her mother had died only five years ago. And, most likely, though she'd never asked, this was where Lenore had died nearly twenty years ago. Would this be where her grandmother would die today?

Please, God, no
, she prayed as she pushed open the doors.

“You'll have to wait out here,” the receptionist said after Christine quickly explained the situation. “We'll let you know when Mrs. Daniels is stabilized, and then you can see her.”

First Christine paced back and forth, and then it occurred to her that her grandmother had other family that should be notified. She ran to the pay phone and dialed information to get Jimmy and Felicity's number. Jimmy was supposed to be home with his kids today.

“Hello?” His voice sounded as cheerful as ever.

“Jimmy,” she gasped. “This is Christine. I'm at the hospital in Larchwood with your mother—”

“Oh no, is she okay? What happened?”

Christine quickly told him about what had happened at the cemetery.

“I guess it was just too much for her.” She was crying now. “I should've known better than to take her. But she seemed to be doing so well, and she really wanted to go. And then she just fell apart. Oh, it's all my fault—”

“Easy does it, girl. It's not your fault at all. It's just the way things go sometimes. And, knowing Mom, I'm guessing she's going to be just fine. That woman is really resilient. Just the same, I'll be over just as soon as I can. But I may have to bring the rugrats with me.”

“That's okay. I can help watch them,” she offered.

Then she went and sat down in a hard vinyl chair. She leaned over and put her head in her hands and just cried. Why did this keep happening to her? And just when she thought she'd gotten a grandmother, it looked like she might lose her.
Maybe it's me
, she thought.
Maybe I'm some kind of jinx to everyone I love or have any connections to. Maybe I should just wear a big caution sign across my chest, warning people to beware—don't get too close
. But, at the same time, she knew she was being ridiculous. Still, she couldn't help but wonder if she'd played the granddaughter-for-a-day game—and lost.

By the time Jimmy and the kids arrived, Christine still hadn't been told anything, and every time she inquired the receptionist grew more exasperated with her, telling
her not to worry so much and that she just needed to be more patient. “These things take time.”

“You'd think they could tell us
something
,” she said to Jimmy. “I mean, is she okay? Was it a heart attack? A stroke? What? Even if we can't see her, they ought to know something by now.” She glanced at her watch. “It's been well over an hour.”

“Let me go give it a try,” he said. “You kids stay with your cousin and I'll be back in a minute.”

She smiled at that word.
Cousin
. It sounded comforting.

“Where's Grandma?” Jamie asked as he sat down beside Christine.

“She's in there.” Christine pointed toward the big swinging doors. “The doctor is with her now.”

“Is she getting a shot?” Casey asked with wide eyes. “I don't like getting shots.”

“I don't know,” Christine said honestly. “She might be getting a shot.”

“We got our Christmas tree,” Jamie said as he noticed a small artificial tree on the reception desk.

Casey clapped her hands. “Our tree is so big it touches the ceiling, and Daddy put an angel on top.”

“It must be beautiful.”

“And we have presents,” Jamie said. “We even have one for you.”

Christine blinked. “For me?”

He nodded. “Me and Daddy picked it out.”

Suddenly she realized that she was part of the family now and that she still needed to get Christmas presents. However, that responsibility seemed to pale in comparison
to today's medical emergency. “All things in due time,” her father would probably tell her.

“I spoke to the doctor,” Jimmy said. “She's okay.”

“Really?” Christine wasn't sure whether she could believe this or not. “I mean, is she really okay okay? Or is she just stabilized? Was it her heart or—”

He held up his hand to stop her. “Let me tell you. They checked her heart and everything, and it all looks pretty good. The doctor says it was probably low blood sugar and exhaustion. I told him about visiting the grave, and he said that might've contributed to everything. But the good news is she's just fine.”

“Thank God,” Christine said as she sank down into a chair. “I thought for sure that I was going to lose her. I mean everyone was going to lose her. But it just didn't seem fair after getting to be her granddaughter for only a day.”

He laughed. “Well, don't worry. It looks like the old girl will be around for a good long time. I'd better call Felicity though. I left a somewhat urgent message on her cell phone, and if she got it, she's probably coming a little unglued by now.”

“Grandma's okay,” Christine reassured Jamie and Casey. Of course, they didn't seem overly concerned. They'd probably assumed she was perfectly fine all along, just getting a shot or a checkup or some everyday sort of thing. But Christine was so happy that she hugged them both. “It looks like we'll be having a Merry Christmas after all.”

“I can't believe this would happen only two days before the Christmas party.” Felicity frowned as she pulled out yet another imitation evergreen garland from her apparently bottomless bag and handed it to Christine. Then she turned back to where she was arranging about a dozen red candles along with porcelain elves and reindeer on the fireplace mantle.

“Oh, Felicity,” Aunt Hattie said from her position on the couch, where she was untangling a string of white lights. “These things happen. Let's just be thankful it wasn't more serious.”

Christine returned to her current assignment without saying a word. She, for one, was getting a little weary of Felicity's complaints. Would she have been happier if Grandmother had been seriously ill? It seemed Felicity's biggest concern right now was not having anything ruin
her
party.

Christine may have been out of sight, but she was still
within hearing distance. Even so, she tried to block out Felicity's words as she attempted to wind another length of that stubborn garland around the staircase banister. It was like wrestling with a long, green monster.

“Well, I don't see why she had to go traipsing off to the cemetery clear over in Larchwood just days before Christmas.”

“She just learned that her daughter is dead,” Aunt Hattie said in a weary voice.

“I know, I know. And I'm sorry, really, I am, Aunt Hattie. But then Jimmy said that everyone has suspected as much for years. I think she just needs to let the past go and move on with her life. She has plenty of relatives around here who are alive and well. In fact, she's even got more than she knew she had.” Felicity lowered her voice now, but this probably served only to attract more of Christine's attention. “What do you think she came here for, anyway?”

“To meet her family, I suspect.”

“But why now?”

“Why not?”